


albatross

by falterth



Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst, Gen, Guilt, Impersonation, Minor Character Death, Post-Uchiha Massacre
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-15 14:55:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15415470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/falterth/pseuds/falterth
Summary: After the massacre, Itachi makes one more kill.





	albatross

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally going to be a crackfic. classyfoxturtle and I were talking, and one of us was like, "Well, Hayate ALWAY coughs, and Itachi ALWAYS coughs, so what if Hayate was actually Itachi?" and the working title was "Plastic Surgery no Jutsu" because Itachi uses some kind of chakra fuckery to give himself actual plastic surgery.
> 
> But then I wanted angst, and I was like "Okay hold on, wait, I'm gonna seriously write this," and then I kind of branched off on my own.
> 
> This had been written, for the most part, since about mid-May, and then today I was bored so I looked through my many many MANY WIPs and decided I should finish this. I have a lot of feelings about this one, not all of them good, but after staring at it for so long, I think my brain will actually fall out if I try to improve/rewrite it.
> 
> Please leave a comment/kudos if you enjoyed!
> 
> Warnings: panic attacks, mentions of death, the Uchiha Massacre, murder

After the massacre, Itachi makes one more kill.

He stops at Gekkō Hayate’s apartment, and he kills the man quietly, bloodlessly, quickly forcing him to ingest a fast-acting poison. It looks like he’s just returned from a mission, so it should be easy enough to assume his role immediately—and then he gets to work crafting the most difficult genjutsu he’s ever had to take on (because he doesn’t know anatomy well enough to create a permanent henge, which is yet _another_ fault of his). 

He assumes the face, the name, the identity of the man—rifles through his memories until he has enough of an idea of what the life of the ANBU is like, and then he _is_ Hayate.

The genjutsu is long-lasting, and will affect anyone who sees him. It will drain his chakra reserves substantially, and constantly, but that is just as well, because Gekkō’s reserves were—are, because now _he’s_ Gekkō—far smaller than his.

He hides the body in a sealing scroll, and there’s not much in the way of a mess because he used poison, and then he dumps the scroll into the river and follows its path until it is pulled over the edge of the cliff by the waterfall, and then he stands there for a while more until the scroll is gone, lost to the horizon, and then he returns to his apartment and _thinks._

He cannot let himself be discovered, not for a few days, at least, but he must be close to Sasuke, because if there’s _one_ thing that he regrets, it’s that he’s causing Sasuke pain by killing everyone. Unimaginable pain, and it hurts _him_ too and he won’t even _think_ about their names, names that promised care and care again, and that belonged to the people who had out of love and duty fashioned him. 

It’s that Sasuke genuinely loves his family—or loved—and he will never have the chance to grow up properly now.

Itachi steels himself and rushes to the Uchiha compound, grabbing his squirrel ANBU mask off the kitchen table. It feels _weird_ , because it’s not his weasel mask, not the mask that he knows so intimately, but—it’s familiar.

He sees other people moving from the shadows, moving _with_ him, and toward the same place. He grimaces, because it’s obvious that almost all the capable shinobi of Konoha are all heading in the same direction, because the sudden loss of so many chakra signatures just _screams_ enemies, and when they all get there, everything is—still.

Still, save for the little boy in the middle of the street crying and calling for his parents. His parents, and—

Itachi curses under his breath. “Shit,” he says to the shinobi to his right, and it feels downright _freeing_ to be able to swear at all. “Survivor. Check the houses.” 

They nod and signal to the other ANBU in the area. The one in the cat mask—Uzuki Yūgao, if his and Gekkō’s memories are anything to go by—steps forward, jerking her head toward Sasuke. Itachi approaches the boy, quickly, and absolutely does _not_ do any of the things he should not do, like lean down and put an arm around his brother—

Well, there he goes.

Sasuke jerks away from him, eyes wide with terror and fear and confusion and it _kills_ Itachi inside to know that this is _his_ fault, that _he_ made this happen. That _he_ killed them and made Sasuke _watch._

“It’s okay,” Itachi-not-Itachi soothes. “You’re safe now, you’re okay, we’re gonna get you to a hospital.”

Uzuki, from where she is crouched next to the both of them, says, “We’ll find whoever did this. They won’t be able to hurt you, okay? We’re going to be your guards. Like your own personal bodyguards.”

“I know who did this,” Sasuke whispers. He’s shaking, and Itachi feels his heart breaking piece by piece, and then he wishes that he hadn’t come here at all, that he’d stayed and pretended to unpack from his mission and had kept himself busy doing things that aren’t meant for him to do. “ _He_ did it. That—my brother—that man did it.”

That man.

Sasuke is _already_ distancing himself from Itachi. Something ugly twists around in Itachi’s chest.

“Itachi? _That_ kid?” Uzuki asks. “He’s—are you sure, Sasuke-kun? Are you really sure it was him?”

Sasuke nods without saying anything.

Itachi wants so badly to fall into the role of the person he’s impersonating. He wants to be mad at Uchiha Itachi, he wants to hate the man—the _boy—_ that murdered everyone in his family, he wants it to be so impersonal like that, but it isn’t. 

Itachi signals to Uzuki that he’ll take Sasuke to the hospital. She signs that she’ll come with him, and he nods in agreement.

They leave the Uchiha district just as the Hokage arrives.

 

* * *

 

Sasuke is listless and apathetic, and when morning comes, he stares out the window, watching the sun creep up over the line of buildings that makes up Konohagakure. 

When the sky turns blood-red, Itachi asks Sasuke if he’s hungry, if he wants some breakfast. Sasuke makes no indication that he will respond, so Itachi asks Uzuki to get ahold of a Yamanaka to try to help Sasuke, and she comes back empty-handed. 

“There are none working any shifts right now,” she says, “but I asked if Inoichi-san could come in. They said they’ll see. It is early, after all . . . ”

An uncharacteristic anger sparks in Itachi’s chest. “Aren’t there any _other_ mental specialists? Fuck. I just—I just can’t stand seeing him like that. He’s in _shock,_ and he needs help. I can’t—I’m not trained in this—I don’t know what to do. Sorry. I shouldn’t be taking it out on you like this.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Uzuki says. “I’m frustrated too. Only thing stopping me from mowing down the people who told me to _wait until someone gets here_ is how tired I am. Just got home from a mission, and then _this._ ” She crosses her arms. “I’m not blaming anyone except the—the person that did this. I’m just not sure what I should _do._ ” 

Someone knocks on the door, and Itachi gets up to open it.

“Hello,” he greets. 

“Good morning,” Inoichi says. “I’ve been with Tactics trying to trace whoever did this. The only bodies that we _didn’t_ find were Sasuke’s and Itachi’s. And Sasuke is right here. So we think we’ve got a pretty good idea of _who_ did this, but the _why_ is completely unknown.”

Itachi knows that nobody wants to say it. He knows that nobody wants to acknowledge the possibility of him doing it. So he shrugs, and he says, “Uchiha Itachi.”

Inoichi grimaces, and nods, and then he’s crossing the room, and Itachi is reminded all over again of why this is even _happening,_ and he _hates_ all of a sudden, hates for all that he’s a peace-lover. Hates everyone who was involved in this, and it’s selfish, but Itachi _feels_ selfish right now.

He—

He hates himself, has, for a long time, but thinking about that is—bad, on the best of days.

“Don’t _touch_ me!”

Itachi’s attention immediately snaps toward Sasuke. He’s gone from staring out the window to putting his arms up over his head and backpedaling until his spine is pressed up against the railing at the head of the bed.

“Sasuke-kun, if you’d just—”

“Don’t touch him,” Itachi says flatly. “If you’re going to use your mind-walking jutsu on him, wait until he’s calm. You should _know_ better than this, you’re—”

“Your superior?” Inoichi asks, turning to him. “Who has the final say on things?”

Itachi lets out a frustrated breath and nods sharply. “I’m sorry. Go ahead.”

Inoichi’s face softens. “I know the whole situation has been difficult. You had a lot of Uchiha friends, and you’re gonna be attached to them and you’re going to want to defend one of them. But you can’t let that get in the way of what I need to do to gather information.”

Itachi can’t help but notice that Inoichi says _one of them,_ like—like his clan is something on the _outside._

And it is, really, or else they wouldn’t be so far from everyone, or else they wouldn’t have a _district_ all to themselves—but it hurts, and there’s another emotion that Itachi thinks is shame buried deep under there—it hurts to be reminded so openly.

Itachi watches—and he tries to watch emotionlessly, but it’s hard not to shiver as Inoichi turns back to Sasuke, and tells him, “I need to look into your eyes now. It’s going to be okay. I’m going to help you,” and he watches as Sasuke stares at him, arms still crossed protectively over his head, not understanding at first and then understanding all at once, _too_ much at once, and then shaking his head.

“No no no no _nonono,_ ” Sasuke says, and he’s beginning to hyperventilate and Itachi has to look away and take a shaky breath in. And out. And— 

“I _need_ to do this, Sasuke-kun,” Inoichi says firmly. 

“No,” Sasuke whimpers, moving his arms so that he can cover his eyes with his palms.

He’s curled up against the head of the bed and he looks so small and so vulnerable. Itachi wants to reach out to him.

Itachi _can’t_ reach out to him. 

Inoichi makes a frustrated noise and _grabs_ Sasuke by the wrists.

He can’t watch anymore. He can’t interfere, but he can’t watch, and he feels like he’s going to be sick. He nods to Uzuki, who’s staring in Sasuke’s direction looking unfocused but _tense,_ and he leaves the hospital room and shuts the door behind him and walks back to the Uchiha compound. Regret lines his every step.

He won’t stay long. 

He _won’t._ He has a mission to complete.

But, he thinks, already making up his mind—he can spare a week or so.


End file.
